Discord
by Deandra
Summary: Eomer and his wife argue about his gift to his son. Fluffy little ONE-SHOT. Part 19 of the Elfwine Chronicles.


**_Part 19 of the Elfwine Chronicles. The Elfwine Chronicles are a series of one-shots built around the family group of Eomer, Lothiriel and Elfwine. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes._**

_A/N: I'm back! Miss me? Actually, I've been hard at work on the sequel to Eye of the Beholder, and you just might get to see it sometime in May, if I can figure out how to end it (and then get it written). _

_Our little family was a bit too perfect, so I thought they ought to squabble, and several of you gave me some ideas. To write this, I actually incorporated those ideas into another idea I had come up with. While I was away for a few days in early April, I read some fan fiction by other authors and found that Eokat has written several stories about Eomund, Theodwyn and the young Eomer (and Eowyn). In reading them, their family so closely mirrored what I was trying to portray with the Elfwine Chronicles, that I realized they created a perfect backstory about how my Eomer was raised and why he is the way he is here with his wife and son. I encourage you to go check out her stories. The gift I have Eomer give his son here mirrors something in her story "Orcs and Babes". I have another idea from one of her stories I may eventually use also. (Both are used with her permission.) I especially encourage you to read her story "Courage". You can find it on my Favorites list._

_Sorry to make that note so long! On with the story_ –

**Discord**

**(Apr, 5 IV)**

"He is just a child, Eomer!" Lothiriel exclaimed, rushing into their bedchamber and flinging herself into a chair. She stared angrily at the floor and would not look at her husband.

"Why are you so upset by this? It is only a toy. It is not as though he will be going into battle. He sees all the men with swords and shields, so why should he not be able to play the part of a soldier?" Eomer was trying mightily to keep his temper in check, but for the first time in a long while his wife was being completely unreasonable.

"He could get hurt!" she snapped.

"He could get hurt falling down the front steps! I will show him how to use it so he does not injure himself or someone else." _WHY_ _was she being so difficult about this!_

Tears were beginning to fill her eyes, and she challenged, "What was the point of the War of the Ring, then? Did we not rid Middle Earth of Sauron's great evil? Must our son learn war when he is only four years of age?"

With a sigh, Eomer took a seat in a nearby chair and leaned on his knees, "Thiri, we did get rid of Sauron and his evil influence, but that does not mean that all of Middle Earth is safe and there will never be another war. I would wish as much as anyone to give my son a peaceful world, but I cannot yet do so. Until I can, he must live in a world of soldiers and know of the dangers – and gradually prepare to meet those dangers in battle." He raised a weary hand to stop her protest and continued, "Playing at soldier now will help him prepare for that. All boys do it – have done it for all the ages. I will not let harm come to our son, but he needs to begin preparing to protect himself."

He stood, not wanting to argue further and quickly strode from the room. Within minutes, he was saddling Firefoot, and two Riders scrambled to ready their mounts as well to accompany him. They rode out the main gate a short time later, and Eomer led them off across the plain at breakneck speed. When at last he reined in, it took a bit for his escort to catch up. He tried to conceal a grin; Firefoot was still one of the fastest horses in Rohan even as he was beginning to age.

He stared off across the Riddermark, and the two Riders sat a short distance away to afford him privacy. _Why did she not understand? Likely even her own brothers had played with toy swords, so why was she so distraught that her son would?_

In an odd sort of flash, he vaguely remembered himself playing with such a thing. He sat remembering his father telling him how Theoden had given him a wooden sword and matching shield painted with the emblem of Eorl on it. His father said he had taken the sword with him everywhere; even slept with it. He grinned at the thought. He hadn't been too young for such a thing at age four, and neither was Elfwine.

He let out a frustrated growl. He did not think he was in error, or that what he had done was wrong, but he hated fighting with Lothiriel. He never could bear to see her cry... It always seemed to crush the breath right out of his lungs. He turned Firefoot and gazed at Edoras off in the distance.

Finally, he straightened in the saddle and nudged Firefoot to a canter, back toward home. He would talk to Lothiriel more, as long as it took for them to work this out. And if she truly could not be happy with it... But, the deed was done. He didn't see how he could take back the toys now. Elfwine had been delighted and would not readily part with them. Whatever it took, he would make this right with his wife – perhaps she would have an idea of how to fix things.

xxxxx

After Eomer stormed out, Gamling sat thinking for a long time. Finally he stood and went to knock at the door of the Queen's chambers.

Knowing it wasn't likely to be Eomer returning, Lothiriel reluctantly rose to answer it. She was surprised at the sight of the Doorward. "Gamling, come in. What brings you here?"

Gamling shifted awkwardly just inside the door, declining her offer to be seated. With a deep breath, he plunged forward, "My lady, it is perhaps not my place to say this and I do not know that the king would approve, but there is something I think you ought to know." He stopped, suddenly uncertain of his actions.

"Speak freely, Gamling," she reassured him. "I would hear what you have to say and will hold it in confidence."

He thought how to explain, then said, "Eomer King enlisted my aid in acquiring his gift to his son." He swallowed hard, "He said...he told me he had been given a similar gift by Theoden King when he was four." He watched her for a reaction, hoping she understood his purpose in relating this.

Lothiriel rubbed her forehead where a headache had been pounding since this argument began. Softly, she answered, "Thank you for telling me, Gamling. I did not know that."

He nodded and then turned uncertainly to leave. When she made no effort to stop him, he exited and closed the door, exhaling in relief. He hoped his words would help the royal couple resolve this matter. Slowly he moved back to his duties.

xxxxx

When Eomer returned to their chambers, his wife was seated where he had left her, but her expression had changed. He tried anxiously to read it, but failed, and desperately wished for Faramir's gift of insight.

He cleared his throat, and began, "Lothiriel, I–"

She started speaking simultaneously, "Eomer–"

They both stopped and looked at one another. Eomer gestured to her, "Go ahead. What were you going to say?"

She rose and stood in front of him, but kept her eyes averted, "Why did you not tell me Theoden had also given you a sword and shield at four?"

He was startled at the question; both that she knew about that event and puzzled that it seemed to matter.

"I did not think it notable. Why?"

Her eyes came up to gaze sorrowfully into his, and she said softly, "It would have helped me understand why this is so important to you."

Hesitantly he stepped toward her and reached to pull her into his arms, encouraged when she did not object. She laid her head against his chest and he murmured against her hair, "I did not mean to upset you and make you cry, beloved. We will do whatever you wish in this matter. I will not be the cause of your pain."

Her arms slipped around his waist and she hugged him tightly; he returned the gesture. They stood silently holding each other in the middle of the room for a long time. At length, she pulled back and raised her face to his, "You are his father, and my husband. You also have a say in how the boy is raised. I just cannot bear the thought of his fighting, and maybe dying, in battle one day. I could not bear to lose him any more than I could bear to lose you, my love."

She wiped at her tears and straightened in his arms, "You are right, beloved. He must be prepared. You have lived so long as you have because you are a good soldier, and he needs to be also. He may keep your gifts and you will hear no more complaint from me on the matter."

His hand began to rub soothingly up and down her back as he drew her once more into an embrace. "I will not do such a thing again without talking to you first, dearest. Please forgive me for trampling on a mother's tender feelings."

Lothiriel held him tightly, hardly able to believe how much she loved this man. And if his actions were any indication, he felt just as strongly about her. Her mouth tweaked in a smile. One thing she did know well about him was how much he liked to 'make up' with her whenever they disagreed. Since she felt partly to blame, perhaps a little encouragement on her part was in order.

"Eomer, are you truly sorry you made me cry?"

Eomer's brow furrowed, "Of course, beloved! Why would you think..."

She cut him off, "How sorry? Show me."

He looked down and caught the twinkle in her eyes. Her meaning quickly registered and he obliged her readily. "Whatever my lady wishes..." And then words were lost to kisses and giggles and much making up.

THE END

4-22-05

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**_End note:  It is best that you read the Elfwine Chronicles in the order they were written. The more of them that I wrote, the more likely I was to make reference to one of the previous ones and something that happened there. If you want to read them in order, go to the top of this page and click on my name (Deandra). That will take you to my profile page. Scroll down and you will find all the stories I have written. The Elfwine Chronicles are in order from bottom to top since ffn shows them in the order they were posted. A few were posted out of number order, but you can read them in posting order or number order since those few won't be affected in the story content._**


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